


Rumspringa brings all sorts of chaos to the home

by Illusinia



Series: Random Dead-ends that were never brought to life [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amish!Phil, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 05:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusinia/pseuds/Illusinia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil's Amish Niece and Nephew come to visit during their rumspringa. Their first impression with Rowen isn't....wonderful.</p><p>Or the one where Phil was once Amish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rumspringa brings all sorts of chaos to the home

**Author's Note:**

> Because there are no Amish Phil stories out there and I felt there needed to be one. Yes, this is the same Rowen from the SHIELD Tips series, but no this is not a part of that series. This was an idea I was going to use for a while then nixed in favor of one I felt worked better. But I had this and it was interesting so, here it is. I apologize if this somehow insults anyone. I also apologize if the Irish in this sucks. I don't speak Irish myself so I have to track the words down online. I'm sorry if any of that is wrong. Translations for words are at the bottom.
> 
> -Illusinia

Phil groaned as the phone beside his nightstand began to ring, waking him far too early on his day off. It had taken him nearly a decade to break the habit of being up at sunrise every day, but he'd done it. Now, unless he needed to be up for work, he far preferred having time in bed. Or unless his girlfriend decided to wake him. Then he was more than happy to get up.

 

Groaning and recognizing the call could be work, Phil rolled over and picked up the receiver, forcing himself to sound awake. “Hello?”

 

“Phillip?” The sound of his sister's voice on the phone nearly sent Phil flying from his bed to his closet. His sister never used the phone. Never. Largely because she didn't really have access to a phone unless she went into town or to the neighbors. Glancing at the number, he confirmed it was the one for a neighboring “English” family Sarah was close to.

 

“Sarah, what's wrong?” Phil knew he sounded panicked as he nearly leapt out of bed and started to dress while running through the list of things that could have gone wrong to warrant his sister's use of a telephone.

 

“Calm yourself, Brother,” assured Sarah immediately. “Nothing is wrong. Everyone is alright.”

 

Her words caused the tension to rush out of his body and he promptly dropped his pants on the floor before flopping back on the bed. “Geez Sarah, you scared me.”

 

“I'm sorry, Phillip. I didn't mean to,” apologized Sarah. “I just wanted to call and ask if your offer still stands.”

 

“Offer?” repeated Phil, his mind running through all the various offers and the like he could have made to his sister. Primarily they were about keeping her safe but there were other aspects in there too. “Can you remind me which one? It still stands, but I'd like to know what to expect. My offers to you never expire.”

 

Sarah's smile was audible in her voice. “The one you made to Matthew and Ruth. To let them come stay with you during their rumspringa.”

 

“You mean here in the city?” asked Phil, recalling vaguely that offer. “Of course it still stands. I'd rather have them here, with me, during the rumspringa where I know they'll be safe than running around somewhere alone. How many people will be here?”

 

“Just them,” insisted Sarah. “I refuse to infringe on your hospitality further.”

 

Phil chuckled slightly. “If you aren't worried I'm going to 'corrupt' them with my modern ways, then they're welcome to come here.”

 

“You're less of a corrupting force than any other experience they could have, Phillip,” assured Sarah with a laugh. “Besides, you know I've never held your reasons for leaving against you. Nor do any other members of our family. We don't agree, but we accept that you saw reason in it and it had nothing to do with the allure of modern living.”

 

“No, it didn't,” confirmed Phil with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “When are they going to arrive?”

 

“If you're alright with it, then Saturday.”

 

Phil did a quick check in his head, deciding five days should be enough time to make the apartment presentable for his niece and nephew. “That's fine, Sarah. I'll ask my boss for the next week off so I can stay and help them adjust.”

 

“Thank you, Phillip,” thanked Sarah softly. “I do appreciate this.”

 

“You're welcome, Sarah,” assured Phil. “Anything for my family.”

 

There was a sound on the other end of the phone, then Sarah sighed. “I must get home. Have a good day, Brother. Ruth and Matthew will be anxious to see you.”

 

“As I'm anxious to see them,” assured Phil. “Have a good day, Sarah. May god watch over and protect you.”

 

“May he do the same for you,” parted Sarah before the line clicked to indicate she'd hung up.

 

Phil sighed and tossed the phone on his bed and stood. He had a lot to do.

 

\------------------------------ 

 

Balancing the duffel bag on her shoulder, Rowen fished the key to the front door from her pocket while carefully attempting to not hit her swollen stomach in the process. It's harder than it sounds. Thankfully, the door lock clicks easily as she finally manages to maneuver the key properly and push the heavy wooden door open.

 

Stepping into the neat space, she immediately called for Phil. Walking into a SHIELD agent's apartment and not warning them it was a friend could lead to some horrific consequences. “Phil?” 

 

She nearly cringed at the heavy way her accent fell from her throat. It seemed her pregnancy had even managed to destroy the control she used to keep the heavy British accent from her words. Lovely. At least Phil seemed fond of her accent.

 

Not hearing a response, Rowen stepped further inside and began to wonder if Phil was even in. He could have stepped out momentarily for something or another, but it seemed likely he would text her. Then again, who texted someone when they were on their way to the rubbish bins?

 

Moving around the corner blind spot that Phil had made _not_ a blind spot through a well-placed mirror, she stepped into the living room. And stopped, blinking. _Well, this is new_.

 

Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, were sitting in the middle of the living room, fiddling with what smelled like brand new cellphones. Both looked up as Rowen entered, blinking up at her just as blankly as she was at them. Rowen nearly checked the number on the door to confirm she had the right apartment, though she was almost positive she did.

 

The boy had a similar facial structure to Phil and the same shade of brown hair, but his was fuller as would be expected with a teen. His eyes were green, not Phil's blue, and his scent was strange. A combination of wood and dirt she hadn't scented in centuries on a human. Well, except for farm children, but even they rarely smelled quite like this. Despite his scent though, his clothes were completely modern, if not stolen from Phil's closet.

 

The girl, clearly the boy's twin due to nearly identical facial construction, had the same brown hair but wore it in a traditional looking bun. Her eyes were blue, unlike her brother's green, and very weary. Namely, she kept glancing at Rowen's swollen stomach like she suspected it was going to eat her.

 

Cocking an eyebrow, Rowen glanced at the teens, then back at the now-closed front door. “Am I in the wrong apartment? I'm look for Phil.”

 

“Uncle Phil?” questioned the boy, standing carefully. 

 

“I, um, suppose?” tried Rowen, her eyebrow still cocked. The sound of the door behind her opening again, followed by a strong wiff of Phil's scent, caused the corner of her lips to kick up faintly. Hm, her father did always teach her to have a little fun with life. Taking a causal stance, she considered how to describe Phil. “It might be him. Late thirties to early forties, thinning brown hair, blue eyes? Bland-looking office type?”

 

“Good to know you describe me in such lovely terms, Rowen.” Behind her, she could feel Phil slip up so he was nearly touching her back. His arms closed around her waist then, tugging her close so he could hug her below her belly while dropping a kiss to the side of her head. “Hello dear.”

 

“Phil,” greeted Rowen, leaning her head on his shoulder with a furrowed brow. “You didn't tell me you were expecting company this weekend. If you'd like I can leave and we can do this another time.”

 

The arms tightening around her waist told her the answer even before he said a word. “Don't even think about it. It's taken me nearly three weeks of practically begging you to start staying here to get this far. Besides, Matthew and Ruth will be here for a while.”

 

“Hmmm,” hummed Rowen softly, shifting a little. “And when were you going to tell me you already had two children?”

 

Phil blanched, which worried Rowen slightly, but before she could ask or he could say anything, the girl in the living room spoke up. “He's our Uncle, not our father. Now who are you and why are you in our Uncle's home?”

 

“Ruth!” exclaimed Phil, his tone scolding.

 

The girl, Ruth, glanced at her uncle but didn't flinch. “She's a random pregnant English woman wondering into your apartment Uncle Phil! Questions are not unexpected.”

 

“I invited her here and gave her a key,” corrected Phil, shifting his grip on her waist to a single arm as he guided Rowen into the living room. “Matthew, Ruth, meet Rowen.”

 

Rowen nodded in return, working not to flinch beneath the twin's looks. There was something in them that was setting warning bells off, the resulting nerves making her accent even thicker. “Good to meet the both of you.”

 

“Hello,” greeted the boy, Matthew, his eyes narrowed slightly in her direction. “Uncle, is she your friend?”

 

Phil cleared his throat slightly, his arm on her waist tightening slightly. “Sort of, Matthew. She's-”

 

“Your wife?” tried Ruth, clear disapproval in her eyes. “Mother said you still followed the tenements of our faith, so I hope you are married. I can't imagine the man my mother described having a child out of wedlock.”

 

Rowen choked, horrified at the girls words. Memories of her own childhood, of the way some had looked down on her mother for having a child out of wedlock, flooded to the surface. She couldn't be here.

 

Turning in Phil's arm, she tried to pull away slightly. “Phil, I think I should go.”

 

“No,” corrected Phil, his arm around her tightening and allowing him to pull her against his body. “No, Rowen, stay. Please, don't let my niece's rudeness bother you.”

 

Ruth actually looked a little shocked by Phil's words, sputtering slightly. “Uncle! It's a sin for a child to-”

 

“That's enough Ruth,” cut in Phil, his gaze narrowing as it fell on his niece. “Not all children are fortunate to be born to married parents and some parents are never even given the chance to marry, but that does not mean they don't love each other or their children any less.”

 

She knew his words were aimed at her own home situation and it settled some of the nerves she was feeling. Still, this seemed like a very bad time for her to be in her lover's house. “Phil, really, I think perhaps I should just go. I don't want to cause a rift.” 

 

Matthew, who had been silent since his initial question, suddenly broke in as well, drawing all eyes on him. “You aren't causing a rift. We promise. You'll just have to excuse our shock. Where we come from, such things don't happen without social consequences.”

 

“Oh, there are social consequences,” muttered Rowen quietly, her head dropping to Phil's shoulder. “Just not here.”

 

Almost immediately, she felt him shift from annoyed and slightly desperate to completely worried. “Rowen? What's wrong?”

 

Sighing, she just pressed her face closer to his throat. “Nothing is wrong, Phil. It's simply politics. Nothing you need to worry about or contend with. Mother and I are handling it.”

 

“Rowen,” murmured Phil, kissing the side of her head. “We're discussing this later.”

 

Groaning slightly, Rowen nodded and took a deep breath before glancing at Phil's niece and nephew again. Well, this was awkward. “Well then, where are you two from?”

 

“Near Lancaster,” replied Matthew, his brow furrowing in curiosity as he examined Rowen, his eyes stopping on her necklace and the two rings which hung there. “Are those rings from Uncle Phil? You aren't wearing a wedding ring.”

 

“One is,” replied Rowen calmly, her hand coming up the fiddle with both as Phil's hand fell to her stomach. Automatically, her fingers sought out the silver band composed of eternity knots. The ring Phil'd given her. “He gave it to me after six years of waiting.”

 

“Six years?” repeated Ruth in surprise, her eyes shifting to her uncle. “Mother never said you had a wife.”

 

Phil shifted a little, blushing slightly and looking a touch embarrassed. “Rowen and I aren't married. We're...” He paused there, glancing at Rowen.

 

Rowen's own brow furrowed slightly, head tilting as she tried to consider what to call them. “Luadhadh? Betrothed?”

 

The way Phil blinked in surprise made Rowen shift a little uneasily. “You're accepting?”

 

“I took the ring,” pointed out Rowen quietly. “I thought that was how one accepted a proposal.”

 

Phil chuckled slightly, tilting his head against hers. “I thought I needed to slay a dragon and present you with it's skull to propose. You never said you'd accepted.”

 

Rowen could feel her face heating slightly. Cultural barriers, such wonderful things. “No! Hardly. I'd never ask you to do something so preposterous. Especially when I can slay my own dragons, thank you very much.”

 

“The fact that you're not being facetious as you say that scares me,” muttered Phil, just before he pressed his lips to her forehead again and the arm around her waist pulled her flush against his body. “Thank you, Rowen. Thank you.”

 

“For?” questioned Rowen, completely confused. He had made the offer. Shouldn't she be the one saying thank you? Okay, yes, she could turn him down, but the man had offered to protect her at all costs if the person they had thought at the time was her son's father abandoned her. That Phil was her son's father rather than her former lover had been a massive relief, and not just because Phil is a superior male. 

 

“For saying yes,” murmured Phil, his body relaxing slightly against her own. “I was afraid you might not.”

 

“Why wouldn't she?” asked Ruth suddenly, reminding both adults effectively that there were impressionable teenagers in the room. “What woman willingly has a child out of wedlock?”

 

Rowen bit her tongue to keep from saying something completely out of line in response. Something along the lines of 'one who's mother is a goddess of battle' or 'one who was herself raised out of wedlock, thank you very much'. Phil seemed to sense this and slipped a hand to rub the back of her neck soothingly.

 

“Not all women feel the need to marry, Ruth,” explained Phil calmly. “Outside the Amish community, things are very different. That's why your mother asked me to watch out for you both on your rumspringa.”

 

Furrowing her brow, Rowen lifted her head to look at Phil in confusion. “Running around? Why are you using random old Dutch? Deformed random old Dutch at that.”

 

Both twins looked at her in surprise, like they couldn't believe she knew what the word meant without understanding what it meant. Phil looked equally surprised for a moment, then shook his head. “Right, 23 languages and 17 dialects. You would know old Dutch.” 

 

Rowen just cocked an eyebrow at him, silently saying 'stop delaying'.

 

Sighing, he led her around to the kitchen counter and gently coaxed her onto a stool while simultaneously taking the duffel from her arm and setting it on the ground. “Your right about the language except for one thing: it's called Pennsylvania dutch and not old Dutch. As for what rumspringa is, it's an Amish tradition where individuals between the ages of 16 and 25 'run around' or break traditional Amish customs in order to confirm they want to dedicate themselves to the Amish church and lifestyle for their entire lives.”

 

“Alright,” murmured Rowen slowly, nodding slightly. “Now explain to me what these 'Amish' are and how you came to be one of them.”

 

“He's not,” spoke up Matthew quietly. “Uncle Phil and Uncle Richard both left the community when they turned 18. Uncle Phil left because he wanted to protect everyone by joining the army and Uncle Richard, well, he was seduced by modern technology and living. The lack of restrictions and so on.”

 

“The Amish are members of a Christian church, the Mennonites, who choose to live in a simple life style,” explained Phil, drawing Rowen's attention towards him. “They live with little to no modern technology and do most of their work by hand. Everything from spinning thread and sewing clothing to forging metal and building buildings.”

 

Rowen's brow furrowed, causing her to tilt her head slightly. “Interesting. It sounds like home.”

 

“Home?” repeated Ruth, raising a disbelieving eyebrow at Rowen as she turned to glance at the girl. “Not too many people would call a place where you don't have technology and work with your hands all day home.”

 

“It is though,” explained Rowen with a faint shrug. “When I was a child I learned to sew my own clothing, forge my own steel, build my own home from stone and wood. I can make my own books and candles, cook, mix my own medicines, heal my own wounds, and hunt my own food. I know how to garden and heat water, build a fire and butcher my own meat. All without the use of modern technology. It doesn't- we don't have it where I grew up.”

 

“Really?” Phil's dubious look would have been hurtful if it weren't somewhat expected. He still had difficulty actually accepting her age, so the fact that he wasn't completely convinced she knew how to do exactly as she said wasn't a huge surprise.

 

“Yes,” confirmed Rowen, looking back at Phil. “I may have been banphrionsa and my máthair may be banríon, but I learned the same as everyone else. You don't simply get to avoid learning those skills where I am from and, indeed, I am expected to show more skill in all of those crafts than any other because I am from the teaghlach ríoga.”

 

Phil sighed, nodding and leaning across the counter to kiss her forehead yet again. It was a touch annoying, how he refused to kiss her lips, but she guessed it had to do with the two sets of eyes on them at the moment. He already had a pregnant betrothed, which is a matter of shame apparently where he is from, he doesn't need to scandalize anyone more by kissing her lips.

 

“What does any of that mean?” asked Ruth, her curiosity finally piqued enough that she stopped looking at Rowen like she was some kind of a seductress.

 

Rowen sighed, rubbing her forehead and glancing at Phil. Touching the edge of her sternum through the fabric of her shirt, directly over her heart, Rowen carefully activated the bond between herself and Phil. _'Tell them however much you wish to. I don't know enough about them or their upbringing to make such a call.'_

 

The only sign Phil gave that he'd heard her comment was a minute nod she only saw because she'd spent the better part of seven years working with the man. “Rowen is from a very different part of the world than all of us. Her mother is a queen and she's a- an illegitimate princess. What she just said is that she still had to learn everything anyone else had to despite her mother's position.”

 

“What language was that?” asked Matthew, his own look of interest in place as he came around the couch to sit on the stool to the left of Rowen.

 

“Irish,” replied Rowen easily. “Why?”

 

“It's pretty,” stated Matthew simply. “We don't hear a lot of different languages were we are. Mostly German, Pennsylvania Dutch, and English.”

 

Smiling slightly, Rowen accepted a cup of water that Phil practically shoved at her after seemingly magically making it appear and took a grateful sip. How he'd known she was thirsty she wasn't sure, but she was grateful none the less. “Thank you, Phil. And given I speak two of the three of those, Matthew, I'm certain we won't have any trouble communicating.”

 

“You do?” Ruth asked, finally retreating into the kitchen with her uncle and looking curious. “How many languages do you speak?”

 

“Twenty-three, as your uncle said earlier,” replied Rowen with a soft smile. “I have a knack for languages.”

 

“Clearly,” muttered Ruth, her eyes falling back to Rowen's belly. “So, is the baby our uncles?”

 

Phil nodded, his face softening in joy. “Yes Ruth, it is. Thankfully.”

 

“Thankfully,” agreed Rowen mildly, offering one hand to Phil over the counter. He took it immediately, weaving their fingers together in a display that seemed to startle the twins a little.

 

“What do you mean by thankfully?” asked Matthew, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Couldn't the child only be yours, Uncle Phil?”

 

“That's...complicated,” replied Phil, his words carefully chosen.

 

Rowen just rolled her eyes. “Someone, not your Uncle, drugged me and in that state, we had sex.”

 

Both children immediately turned beet red and even Phil looked a little uncomfortable with the rather blatant explanation. It just made Rowen roll her eyes again. “Really, you are both old enough to know what sex is and that it results in conception unless a contraceptive is used and even then sometimes it still happens. If you don't know that already, you will have a difficult time adjusting out of your mindset to explore the world.”

 

“They are aware of all that, Rowen,” assures Phil gently. “They just aren't used to hearing it put so blatantly.”

 

Sighing, Rowen shook her head, muttering about human taboos and supposed 'sensibilities'. Phil chuckled faintly and kissed her hand. Both twins just looked extremely confused.

 

“Why did you say it like that?” asked Ruth, her eyes narrowing. “You're human, too. One of God's creatures.”

 

Phil cleared his throat slightly, shooting a look at Rowen, who shot one back and just shrugged a little with a 'they're bound to find out we exist anyway' look. He sighed a little and put the kettle on for tea. “Go sit in the living room, both of you.”

 

Ruth and Matthew exchanged concerned looks but did as they were told, practically scurrying to the couch. Phil followed at a far more sedate pace, pausing to kiss Rowen's lips on his way. It took her by surprise for a moment, though she pressed back softly and brushed a finger over the mark on his chest through his shirt. It made him shutter. Pressing their foreheads together, he whispered softly to her. “Take your bag and go in my bedroom. I'll be there shortly, I promise. And then I'm going to greet you properly.”

 

“Alright,” murmured Rowen quietly, taking her bag and glancing at the teens before risking a kiss to Phil's cheek. “I'm holding you to that.” Then she grabbed the bag off the ground where Phil had dropped it earlier and headed into her lover's bedroom.

 

====================

 

Phil waited until he heard the door to his bedroom click shut before pouring three cups of tea and heading out into the living room. Ruth and Matthew both looked up as he entered, watching him curiously as he set the tea on the coffee table and retrieved his laptop. He did so silently, nearly feeling his niece and nephew vibrate with worry and excitement.

 

“Uncle?” tried Matthew. “What's going on?”

 

“One moment, Matthew,” insisted Phil, setting up his laptop. “There's something I need to show you both first.” With his computer up, he pulled up several video files from the SHIELD database, making sure they were all paused before he looked at his niece and nephew. “This isn't how I really want to introduce you to this, but I'm not sure there's a better way. Just...keep an open mind.”

 

Hitting the play button, he watched as video footage from the Battle of Manhattan played across the screen. Specifically, it was footage of Thor using not only his hammer but his lightning and magic to take out the invaders. He only watched the footage for a few minutes before refocusing on the twins to watch their reactions.

 

A combination of awe, horror, and fear crossed their faces as they stared at the screen. Phil had to admit, it was hard to take in. He hadn't been there, obviously, but having witnessed Thor's power in person in New Mexico as well as having met the man along with all the other members of that team, he knew how surreal it could be.

 

“How is that possible?” asked Matthew quietly once the video had ended. “God- why would he have created such a creature?”

 

“Matthew,” sighed Phil, shaking his head. “That man's name is Thor and an ancient civilization called the Vikings worshiped him as a god along with his brother and other members of his family. They seem like something out of a fairy tale but they are very real. They're aliens from another world. And for the most part, they are good people.”

 

“For the most part?” asked Ruth, her eyes going wide.

 

Phil nodded, leaning back a little. “Much like humans, there are good and bad people where Thor is from. His brother, Loki, is....” He paused, idly rubbing his scar while thinking of Rowen at the same time. It was hard to believe, but Phil had seen the look on Loki's face in the hospital as he'd stared at his daughter with pure joy. Called her his good little princess and appeared so relieved that his child was safe. It was such a stark contrast from the crazed man who had stabbed him, Phil had wondered if it was a different Loki.

 

“His brother Loki is evil?” suggested Ruth, her own gaze concerned. “Then he will burn in hell when he dies.”

 

Wincing, Phil tried to find a better way to explain. “Loki isn't evil, per say Ruth. He was lied to and it drove him mad for a little while. It drove him to cause all that chaos, out of a need to prove himself worthy of his family.”

 

“I don't understand, Uncle,” stated Matthew with a shake of his head. “He started a war. That's the act of an evil man.”

 

“We don't call him evil, Matthew,” insisted Phil. “Or at least we don't in front of Rowen.”

 

Ruth's brow furrowed further. “Why? Does she not believe him evil?”

 

Sighing, Phil leaned back against the back of the couch and leveled a look at the twins. “No, she doesn't. He's Rowen's father and before the Battle of Manhattan, before all of this chaos, she never saw him do anything evil. He never raised a hand against her, never caused her harm, and never let her witness any of his various acts of mischief. He has protected her as best he can from everything for her whole life. All his ambitions, his darker desires, disappear when he's faced with Rowen. He loves his daughter so dearly that he would never do anything that could cause her harm. Even if that meant being harmed himself.”

 

“But he's still evil, Uncle,” insisted Ruth. “He brought war upon a city! Plus, he isn't human! He can't have our moral sophistication.”

 

This is what Phil had been dreading. “That's not true, Ruth. Thor, Loki, and Rowen are all highly intelligent, morally driven individuals. Well, Thor and Rowen are morally driven. They're from another world, but that doesn't make them better or worse than us. Rowen has worked with me for seven years, pretended to be human because she wants to understand humans. I expect you both to at least give her the same courtesy. Where she was born and how she was raised are different from us, but she's a good woman and works hard to help others where she can. Where she's from and who her parents are don't matter.”

 

“She's a false god, Uncle!” exclaimed Ruth unhappily. “That's a sin! She's not a god, she's just an alien masquerading as one.”

 

“Actually, I'm not.” Rowen's voice startled Phil enough that he nearly fell off the couch in his effort to turn and face her. She smiled softly at him before focusing on Ruth. “Humans never knew I existed. I kept out of sight and made sure I could never be mistaken for anything other than human. I'm not a false god or whatever you just called me and I'd appreciate if that would be acknowledged.”

 

Phil nodded, standing and carefully walking around the couch to where she's standing. “Are you alright, Rowen?”

 

She nodded, glancing at the kitchen guiltily. “Yes, I'm just a touch peckish. Our son reminded me of that not long after you'd started and it didn't sound like this was going to be fast so...” She shrugs a bit, biting her lip. “I thought I'd just get something to eat quickly.”

 

“Of course,” murmured Phil, kissing her forehead. “Whatever you want, I went shopping recently.”

 

“Thank you,” whispered back Rowen. “And I'm sorry for interrupting.”

 

“Did you enchant our Uncle?” asked Ruth suddenly, her eyes narrowed sharply.

 

Rowen stared at Ruth for a moment, then laughed. Outright laughed. “Oh, that's a bloody funny idea. Me, a freak even by my people's standard, _enchanting_ _a human_.” Shaking her head, she offered Ruth a smile. “No, I didn't enchant your Uncle, Ruth. I'm not from a society that encourages underhanded methods of obtaining affection.”

 

Ruth's eyes were still narrowed suspiciously, though she relaxed slightly. “How can I be certain you're being truthful?”

 

“Because a true warrior does not lie,” countered Rowen with her own raised eyebrow. “And I was accepted as a true warrior long ago.”

 

“Ruth, that's enough,” cut in Phil, shaking his head. “Rowen hasn't enchanted me, she didn't trick me or seduce me. She wasn't even aware of how I feel until a few months ago. Now, I want both of you to go settle into your rooms. Unpack, rearrange the rooms however you want. Think on what you've been told; it's a lot to take in. I'm going to start dinner shortly and will warn you now that Rowen will be staying here with us. Understand?”

 

“Yes, Uncle,” chorused the twins, though Ruth was still looking at Rowen like she didn't trust her. Matthew seemed less concerned though, tilting his head as he watched everything.

 

Sighing, Rowen shook her head. “Feel free to ask me anything, too. You're Uncle's right; this is a lot to take in and you will have questions he can't answer. If he's alright with me speaking freely about my home, than I'll answer any questions you have.”

 

“Thank you, Rowen,” thanked Matthew quietly, offering her one of his hands to shake. “Rumspringa is supposed to be about experiencing life outside our community and learning about the world. That you are willing to help with that after we greeted you so rudely, well, thank you.”

 

“You're more than welcome,” assured Rowen gently, carefully taking Matthews hand with her usual unease with touch. “You and your sister are doing the same thing I am: trying to learn about another world. The least I can do is treat you with the same patience and understanding I would want to be treated with.”

 

Matthew smiled a little, nodding. “It seems we have one thing in common then. I would ask though, should we simply call you 'Rowen' or 'Aunt Rowen'?”

 

Rowen started slightly, looking back at Phil uneasily. “Whatever your Uncle is comfortable with, I suppose. I'm not completely certain about human relationship labels within the family or what prompts them.”

 

Phil shrugged slightly, laying a hand low on her back. “You can call her Aunt Rowen if you'd like, Matthew.”

 

Matthew nodded slowly. “Thank you.” Turning to his twin, he took her arm gently. “Let's go unpack, Ruth. I want to play with the cellphone a bit more. It's interesting.”

 

“Alright brother,” agreed Ruth, though she glared untrustingly at Rowen even as her brother pulled her away.

 

Sighing, Rowen spun towards Phil as soon as the twins were out of sight and leaned her head on his shoulder. Sarcasm dripped heavily from her tone as she spoke. “Well, that went swimmingly. Could you perhaps warn me about any sheltered Christian relatives of yours before I meet them next time?”

 

Phil chuckled slightly, shaking his head. “I'll try. I honestly forgot that the Amish get really upset about children being born out of wedlock. You and our child are my world. In my mind, marriage just isn't...”

 

“Important?” suggested Rowen. “Or is it more like we're already married in a sense, even without the rings, because we love each other?”

 

“Love is the important part,” confirmed Phil softly. “I love both of you, deeply. I'd give up my life for either of you, and to me that matters more than a set of metal rings.”

 

“That's what matters to me, too,” murmured Rowen, snuggling close as her son suddenly kicked against the front of her stomach where Phil's body was touching hers. She froze at the motion, her eyes going wide as she lifted her head to meet his. “Phil, did you just feel-”

 

“-the baby kick?” finished Phil, an amazed and joyous smile covering his face. “I did. Our son just kicked. He just kicked Rowen.”

 

Both of them just stood silently in the kitchen, all conflict within the family forgotten as they shared identical smiles of joy and wordlessly celebrated their child's first physical manifestation of life.

**Author's Note:**

> Banphrionsa- princess  
> máthair- mother  
> banríon- queen  
> teaghlach ríoga- royal family


End file.
